»Table of Contents
The Lady and the Unicorn: Hosting the Stranger
Richard Kearney
PART ONE
Who is the Unicorn and who is the Lady? What if we were to read the Lady as host and the Unicorn as guest? Not as a guest in any ordinary sense but as a stranger who comes from afar and may be received with either hostility or hospitality? In such a scenario, the Lady would be making a wager, taking a risk that this hybrid creature, often maligned as monster or demon in former literature, is an alien to be welcomed to her tent of desire.
There are multiple interpretations of this intriguing couple. And the multiplicity is itself an indication of how the tapestry narrative in the Musée de Cluny in Paris (c 1500) provokes the imagination to engage in a seemingly endless hermeneutic. Numerous writers, artists and poets, including Rilke, Merimée, George Sand and Bertrand DAstorg have expressed fascination with this work.1See for example, Bertrand D'Astorg, Le Mythe de la dame à la Licorne, Le Seuil, Paris, 1963. But it is, arguably, the scholars and academics who have exercised most influence on our contemporary understanding of the tapestry. The results of their research comprise the following main interpretations:
- the Platonic-ascetic tradition which sees the Lady as an allegorical cipher of chastity and the Unicorn as a seductive beast of the senses;
- the heraldic-matrimonial tradition which construes the Lady as fiancée and the Unicorn as a symbol for her future bridegroom, Jean Le Viste, member of the noble French family who commissioned the tapestry;
- the Christian-spiritual tradition of the Lady as Virgin Mary and Unicorn as Christ (or Gabriel announcing the conception of Christ);
- the Courtly Love tradition of unrequited lover and intangible beloved, going back to the popular songs and romances of the troubadours.
These are not the only readings of course. We also find various depictions of the unicorn by adventurers like Marco Polo as an uncanny beast who both fascinates and frightens the observer. In such popular tales the portrait of the unicorn as an exotic oriental being is sometimes linked to the single-horned rhinoceros and located near rivers (see Polos The Book of Wonders). Several other travel accounts, most notably Jacques de Vitrys History of the Crusades, record sightings of this elusive creature at the extreme frontiers of the western world. The unicorn thus came to epitomize a curiously liminal outsider, crossing borders and boundaries between east and west: un bête frontalier resisting definition and capture. In several heraldic hunting scenes one even finds the unicorn portrayed as an innocent creature who dips its horn into poisoned waters in order to cleanse and purify them (hence the frequent illustrations of unicorns besides lakes and fountains ). Indeed such a powerful impact did these stories have on their time that the famous traveler, Bernard Von Breydenach, claimed in his travelogue, Peregrinatio in Terram Sanctum, that he had witnessed this scene during his visit to Jerusalem a legend which Rabelais parodies to great effect in the 5th book of Pantagruel.2See Elisabeth Delahaye, La Dame à la Licorne, Musée de Cluny, Paris, 2006, pp 61 f. There was even a widely circulated practice of using a rare powder ground from the tusk of the unicorn as a magical healing medicine.
I would like to suggest that this very multiplicity of interpretations may well be a clue to the extraordinary power of the Cluny Tapestries. Indeed I would wager that this strange duo of Lady and Unicorn combines several different meanings in one, thus comprising a unique and multilayered palimpsest a sort of coincidentia oppositorum so cherished by Nicholas of Cusa and the great mystics. Such a hermeneutic wager is, I believe, supported by the decisive double gesture of the Lady in the final tableau where she both 1) takes the jewels of the senses to her bosom and 2) simultaneously restores them to the jewel box. The fact that Rilke interprets her as embracing the senses contrary to most allegorical interpretations of her renouncing them, betrays the inherent ambiguity of the scene itself.
I will return to this hypothesis at the conclusion to this essay. But let me begin by asking what the Unicorn means and why I am proposing that we read it as a stranger eligible to be received as a guest or renounced as a monster. What are the origins of this curiously ambivalent creature which qualify it as a recipient of either hospitality or hostility? I believe this ambiguity is present in the ultimate double gesture of the jewels (panel 6); and it is also suggested by the penultimate gesture of Touch (panel 5) where it is unclear whether the Lady is removing her hand from the tusk of the Unicorn or grasping it. Is she welcoming or withdrawing from his presence?
1. The Lady and The Unicorn; Touch
2. The Lady and The Unicorn; A mon seul désir
Let us look at some of the history. One of the first descriptions of the unicorn is found in Book VIII of Pliny the Elders Natural History (Ist century AD). Here the author speaks of a strange quadruped with a single horn, and pens this vivid portrait: The most fell and furious beast of all others is the Licorne or Monoceros: his bodie resembleth a horse, his head a stag, his feet an elephant, his tail a bore. He bellows after a hideous manner; one black horn he hath in the midst of his forehead, bearing out two cubits in length. By report, this wild beast cannot possibly be caught alive.3This is my own variation on the first English translation by Philemon Holland, 1601. Cited in Bestiare du Moyen Age: Les Animaux dans les Manuscrits, edited by Marie-Hélène Tesnière and Thierry Delcourt, Somogy Editions d'Art, Paris 2004, p 55. See in particular the Thierry Delcourt, "La Licorne et L'éléphant", pp 56-65. We will return to the legend of the unicorns inability to be captured live below. Suffice it for now to note that this beast is pictured, in earliest representations, as a hybrid of earth monster and sea creature, bearing the horn of a narwhal and the features of multiple wild animals (including an untamed horse). Pliny the Elder also informs us that the unicorn is a formidable and fearful beast hunted in far-away India then considered a hinterland at the edge of the world inhabited by strangers, aliens and monsters.
But the unicorn was also a baleful creature in the Bible and in the writings of the early Church fathers where we encounter equal suspicion, sometimes bordering on repulsion. There are several mentions of the unicorn in the Psalms and the Book of Job where it is described as a malevolent and violent beast. And later Christian sources are not kinder. St Basil warns the believer to be wary of the unicorn, that is the devil, for it easily commits evil against humans; while St Bernard enjoins the faithful to struggle against their inner animal demons, citing in particular the rage of the lion, the ferocity of the boar and the pride of the unicorn.4Cited Delahaye, p 57. And we might also cite here the 7th century Christian legend of Barlaam and Josaphat where the former sets out to engage in heroic combat with the wild unicorn an account which gave rise in turn to numerous medieval versions of a dangerous horned monster from the borders of the known universe.
The biblical suspicion of this hybrid beast was further compounded by the growing influence in early and medieval Christian literature of a metaphysical dualism between body and soul. Such a dichotomy is evident in Brunetto Latinis Book of Treasures (ca 1266) which describes our senses as irrational forces to be subordinated to the rational soul: We are ahead of other animals, not by our strength nor common sense but in reason .But the body has five other senses: seeing, hearing, feeling, tasting, touching .But all these things are surmounted by the soul, which is seated in the master fortress of the head and considers through the judgment of its reason what the body does not touch and which does not reach the other senses of the body.5Cited Delahaye, p 49. Given that the Cluny tapestry features the Lady encountering the unicorn in five tapestries representing five senses before moving on to a sixth sense in the final tableau it is relevant to recall how the bodily senses were treated in the Platonic-Biblical readings of the unicorn. Philo of Alexandria was one of the first to identify the five senses with female seduction and with sin, going so far as to equate the infamous vices with various wild animals the dog with envy, the monkey with lust, the wolf with avarice and so on. But it was in the early Christian and Middle Ages that this prejudice found most common currency. Augustine compared the five senses to the five foolish virgins of Gospel notoriety, while Bartholomeus Anglicus, in the 13th century described the unicorn as a most cruel beast who will only be relieved of his foreigness when it sleeps on the lap of a Virgin. Clearly swayed by these warnings against our carnal instincts, we find Sebastian Brandts famous depiction of the Five Senses as Female Follies. Such portraits stand in sharp contrast to the story told in the Cluny tapestries.
3. Illustration of the Ship of Fools
But this is not the end of the story. One does find more positive responses to the unicorn emerging in the late Middle Ages. The shift is most dramatically witnessed in tales of a young virgin welcoming the Unicorn to her bosom or lap. This reading sometimes equates the virgin Lady with Mary and the unicorn with either Gabriel in the Annunciation or with the incarnate Christ whose crucified body is cradled by his mother. In such pièta scenes the Madonna serves as a blessed hostess welcoming back Christ the stranger (hospes). These themes are graphically illustrated on the colonnades of St Peters cathedral in Caen and in the stained glass windows of Bourges Cathedral. Crucifixion scenes were especially popular where the hunted unicorn, a lance traversing its side, serves as symbol for the passion of Christ.
4. Le bestiare du moyen age (piercing of a unicorn)
I suspect there may be some echo here of Plinys original claim that the unicorn is a creature who cannot be taken alive, but must first be hunted and killed. The pierced unicorn thus becomes less a monstrous prey than a sacrificial scapegoat who, once captured and crucified, is cradled in the lap of his virgin mother before rising again. In the 13th century we find both Hugh of St Victor and Albert the Great subscribing to this mystery of the unicorns Incarnation and sacrifice. And it is this view which finds explicit expression in Hexaemerons popular account: Thus did our Lord Jesus Christ, the spiritual unicorn who descended into the womb of the virgin to take on flesh, find himself captured and put to death.6See here the symbolic depiction of the unicorn in terms of Christian sacrifice by Pierre de Beauvais in his famous Bestiary of 1220. See Thierry Delcourt, Bestiare du moyen age, Ibid, illustrations pp 57-59. See also the illustration in this text of the unicorn as healing benefactor in a paradisal landscape by a river, ibid. p. 59.
In this second part of my essay I will argue that the Courtly Love tradition provides an opening for a more expansive reading of the unicorn. It allows for an interpretation which combines the mystical tradition of sacrificial love with the troubadour cult of romantic desire. Here the unicorn plays the role of a mysterious mediator between the poet lover and his beloved and at times even comes to symbolize the lover himself.
The troubadour movement of fine amour came to full fruition between the 13th and 15th centuries and offered a stark alternative to the allegorical readings of the unicorn as a carnal threat to Lady Reason. A typical account of the Courtly Love interpretation is to be found in Richard de Flourivals Bestiaire damours (mid 13th century). This was a well known source of the time, so I quote at some length. The poet writes: This is why I say that if I was captivated by Hearing and Sight it is no surprise if I lost my sense and memory. For hearing and seeing are the two windows to the memory and they are the most noble senses of man. For man has five senses: sight, hearing, touch, taste and smell .and I was taken by Smell also, like the unicorn, who falls asleep in the sweet scent of the virginity of the demoiselle .Love, who is a cunning hunter, placed in my path a young girl whose sweetness sent me to sleep and made me die that death that belongs to Love.7See Li bestiaires d'amours di Maistre Richard de Fourneval e li response du besstiaire, ed Cesare Segre, Documenti de Filogia, vol 11, Milan and Naples, 1957. See illuminating commentary by Carl Nordenfalk, "The Five Senses in Late Medieval and Renaissance Art" in Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes, vol 48, The Warburg Institute, 1985, pp 1-3. (7).
Another very influential verse from this period is to be found in the widely cited Song Book: the Capture of the Unicorn. Here the poet, Thibaut IV of Champagne, pens this portrait of the unicorn as symbol of the fatally love-bedazzled suitor.
Like the unicorn, I am lost in wonder
contemplating the young girl
He delights so in his torment
That he faints upon the virgins breast
And at that moment is treacherously killed.
I too have been killed in such a way,
For love and for my lady, in truth:
They hold my heart and I cannot recover it.8Song Book: the Capture of the Unicorn (Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, fr. 846, fol.I. Circa 1280-1300). See Delahaye's commentary on this in the section, "The Lion and the Unicorn in the Middle Ages," Ibid.
This verse is a heady brew of mystical-Christian and secular-erotic themes. It represents the commingling of two views, one typical of the Middle Ages, the other of the early Renaissance. It is interesting to note, moreover, how the courtly love tradition often compares the lady/unicorn couple to legendary lovers from Classical and Celtic literature. We find typical allusions to Dido and Aeneas, Tristan and Isolde, and Lancelot and Guinevere. In these mixed scenes the unicorn seems to represent both the Incarnation of the senses and the chastity of the savior, who interestingly exerts a mystical power over lovers in the guise of a captivator of poets. The poet-lover thus likens himself, in Thibauts verse, to the unicorn whose sacrificial surrender in the lap of the virgin is comparable to the capture-rapture of his own heart in the bosom of his beloved. Indeed in several visual renderings of this chaine damour we find the unicorn acting as both host to the poet and hostage to the Lady, the two roles blending into each other. In short, the hunted Unicorn both captures the poet and is captured by the Lady. Or in another double gesture, the unicorn-lover is at once actively seducing the virgin and passively seduced by her. Moreover, this latter allusion to seduction is most graphically portrayed by frequent images of a young virgin tied naked to a tree, whose sweet scent entices the lover-unicorn who is then surrounded and killed by the hunters of love. Indeed in some etchings the unicorn is even depicted kissing the virgins perfumed breasts.9Kristina Gourlay, " la Dame à la Licorne: A Reinterpretation," in La Gazette des Beaux Arts, Sept 1997, pp 53 and 62.
5. The Captured Unicorn (ca. 1500)
But it is time to return to the Cluny tapestries. In light of the above interpretations we may now ask what is meant by the narrative sequence of the six tableaux. What, to cite our earlier mention, are we to make of the Lady stroking the horn of the Unicorn in the tableau, Touch? Or, in the tableau, Sight, inviting it to rest its hooves on her knees as it leans towards her breast to look in her hand-held mirror? How does the tableau Scent echo the scene of the captivatingly perfumed virgin? And how do the remaining scenes of Hearing (where the Lady plays music as the Unicorn swoons) and Taste (where her pet monkey consumes sweet fruit) fit with the reading of fine amour?
Finally, how are we to read the sequencing of the series itself? For instance, why are the scenes of five senses followed by a sixth tableau which features the emblazoned words A mon seul désir? What do we make of this cartouche which crowns the entire procession of images? Are we witnessing the triumph of a sixth sense which culminates the iconic narrative of the five? And if so, what exactly does this sixth sense mean? Does it represent an ascetic movement in which the Lady renounces the five senses in devotion to her only true desire the unicorn as celestial savior? Or does the sixth sense signify rather an incarnational movement where the spirit descends kenotically into the other five senses, marking a sacred celebration of embodied life?
The former hypothesis finds support in the Platonic-metaphysical-moralist tradition which identifies the senses as temptations to be expelled by the rational soul. Carl Nordenfalk offers some evidence for this view when he notes that the Cluny Tapestries were made by the same artist Master of Anne of Bretagne, Jean dYpres who produced the Ship of Temptations allegory where the five senses are caricatured as five female follies.10See Carl Nordenfalk, "The Five Senses in Late Medieval and Renaissance Art" in Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes, vol 48, The Warburg Institute, 1985, pp 7-10. The equation of mind with male and senses with female actually goes back to Philo of Alexandria and further. It is clearly a gender stereotype of long history and one which deserves detailed critique in its own right. Suffice it for now to pose the question as to how this male/female opposition informs the host/guest relationship analyzed in this study.
The second reading which I argue for here - is supported by the celebration of a sacramental sensibility illustrated in the paradisal landscape of fauna and flora colorfully depicted in all six tapestries. The glorious garden in which the Lady and Unicorn meet seems to blend purity with pleasure, serving as both 1) a locus amoenus or pleasure garden presided over by Venus, and 2) a hortus conclusus or cloistered garden which Christ and the Virgin cohabit as they recall an original Eden and await a coming Kingdom. This incarnational view opposed to metaphysical dualisms of body and soul is endorsed by Rilkes interpretation of the Ladys final gesture as a welcoming of the five senses into a sixth sense of the heart. Here the tent of the heart, at the centre of the sixth tableau and featuring the caption A mon seul désir, is opened by the animals (unicorn and lion) and presided over by a dog (traditionally a symbol of carnal lust but here transformed into a guardian of hallowed desire). Rilkes description of the sixth tapestry is, it seems to me, inflected by a hint of sublime eros. He writes: A tent has been erected. Blue damask with a gold flame motif. The animals open it and she advances simply in her princely garment. For what are those pearls by her side? The maidservant has opened a small casket and the Lady now takes from it a chain, a marvelous heavy piece of jewelry, which has been always locked away in the box. The small dog is sitting near her, up on a place made for him, and looks at it. And have you read the inscription at the top of the tent? You can see it says A mon seul désir.11Rainer Maria Rilke cited by Delahaye, p. 39. See also the poem in this volume by Kascha Semonovitch, "A Visit to the Hunt of the Unicorn", New Arcadia Review, Fall, 2009.
6. The Lady and the Unicorn, A mon seul désir
In short, according to this incarnational reading, the Lady is accepting the secret jewels of desire rather than placing this gift in the box. This interpretation in contrast to its ascetic alternative is more in concert, I think, with the omnipresence in all six tapestries of charming flora and fauna. To be precise: over forty species of May flowers and over a dozen species of animal and bird associated with fecundity and flourishing. The floral fertility symbols include acorns, holly, pomegranates and orange trees, while the animals include monkeys, foxes, wolves, dogs, leopards, goats and cheetahs, not to mention scores of rabbits. As Bestiaries of the time reveal, the old French for rabbit, conil derives from the Latin cuniculus, the female sex. The aviary of birds let loose in the tapestries connote acts of ludic sparring and gaming e.g. herons, falcons, magpies, partridges and mallard. In such a nature-loving game park, one is compelled to conclude that the Lady, in both dress and appearance, resembles Botticellis Primavera more than she does a celibate nun.
This efflorescent landscape is redolent of allusions to the erotic adventures of the 13th century romance, Le Roman de la Rose, as well as to the amorous games of the sorror spousa with her shepherd lover in the Song of Songs.12See Marie-Elizabeth Bruel, "Les Tapisseries de La Dame à la Licorne: Une représentation des vertus allégoriques du Roman de la Rose", in Gazette des Beaux-Arts: Le Chronique des arts, Dec 2000, pp 216-239. For a detailed account of the biblical, Christian and Marian themes of this tapestry, see Phyllis Ackerman, "The Lady and the Unicorn", The Burlington Magazine, vol 66, no 382, 1935, pp 35-36. The fact that the monkey holds a rose in one tableau suggests another significant reference to these poems of sensual abandon and hints that the entire sequence of tapestries may be a cryptic initiation in ars amandi.13See Anna Nilsen, "The Lady with the Unicorn: On Earthly Desire and Spiritual Purity", Studies in Art History, No 16, ed Marja Kanapas and Asa Ringbom, Society for Art History in Finland, 1995, pp 225-227. Nilsen notes the importance of the monkey appearing prominently in three of the tableaux and points to the fact that a monkey also appears in similar guise in a print by Antoine Verard of Adam and Eve and the Fall. This could mean that the Lady and Unicorn is a refiguring of the scene in the Fall where the new lovers represent a redemption of eros, the monkey now ceasing to be a tempter and becoming a symbol of healthy fecundity instead. The transfiguring of the wild lion and monstrous unicorn into loving companions of the Lady might also be said to signify this transformative reading. This would be echoed by the metamorphosis from Sebastian Brandt's depiction of the senses as a Ship of Fools or Temptresses in 1494 into the celebration of the senses as a paradise of joy and fecundity in the Cluny Tapestries. In keeping with this reading, Nilsen interprets the sixth tapestry as an act of amorous devotion in which the Lady bride places her flowered necklace into the chest as an offering of her virginity to her future lover (celebrating the Le Viste betrothal and marriage)(p 66). She also demonstrates how the five senses have a positive role in Christian narratives, with Listening central to the Annunciation, Touch and Sight central to healing etc. The letters "A" and "I" featured on the cartouche of the tent have given rise to an equally rich hermeneutic. While some commentators identify the letters as abbreviated initials for a human lover (fiancée, suitor, spouse), others have suggested it may refer to God (Alpha as one's only true desire) or to the Unicorn itself as both human and subhuman, animal and sacred, monstrous and divine: a fertile hybridity which refuses to be reduced to a single meaning or identity. For further readings of the letters in the Cartouche see Anna Nilsen, op.cit, p. 217; Carl Nordenfalk, op.cit, pp 217 f and Jean-Patrice Boudet, "La Dame à la licorne" (Le Pérégrinateur, Paris, 2008). Commenting on the esoteric and symbolic character of multiple motifs in the Tapestry he concludes that this mosaic of meanings "ne laisse pas de fasciner. Elle est loin d'avoir révélé tous ses secrets."
The incarnational reading opposes the binary opposition of spirit and senses, construing the Ladys seul désir as both a turning inwards to the spiritual (as mystical Bride of Christ) and outwards to the sensual (as fiancée of her courtly lover). Not either/or but both/and. It signals a double fidelity to transcendent and immanent love, to the supernatural and natural at once. Indeed this reading consorts well with the Ladys double gesture in the Sixth Tableau as both giving and receiving the jewels, removing them from her heart and assuming them to her heart simultaneously. In other words, such an hypothesis acknowledges that the sixth sense reconciles carnal and sacred desire. In so doing it construes the Cluny tapestry cycle as an iconic epithalamium in keeping with the Song of Songs and several classical texts of nuptial amour.
Here we confront a question which has preoccupied many commentators over the years, namely: does the key Desire tableau inaugurate the procession of five senses or end it? In other words, is it the first or last tapestry? If the former it could suggest that desire leads and commands the dance through the five senses. If the latter it could be read, according to the Platonic-ascetic model, as actually terminating the senses in an act of renunciation an act which recognizes that the only true desire is for a super-sensible God in whose heart, as Augustine taught, the soul can alone find rest. While one option favors a dis-carnational movement of detachment, resisting the temptations of the Unicorn, the other sees the Lady as embracing the gift of desire from the unicorn. But my hypothesis, once again, is that perhaps the Desire tapestry is both first and final, at once opening and closing the odyssey through the five senses. The sequence of six tableaux would thus form a circle in which desire is both sublimated in an act of detachment and re-embraced in an act of embodiment. Once again, a dialectical chiasmus of transcendence and immanence rather than a dualism between them.
Such a double reading identifies the sixth sense as a primary sensus communis which synthesizes the other five. A secret faculty uniting both inner and outer experience. The Lady and the Unicorn can thus be told as a story of what I might call sacramental-embodied imagination. For the imagination, linked with the heart in both biblical and classical traditions, is the human function which overcomes the injurious dichotomy between reason and sensation.
This paradoxical function has been recognized by many mystics and by philosophers from Aristotle to Kant and Ricoeur. Aristotle seems to identify this mediating role of the heart when he discusses the sixth sense (sensus interior) in the De Anima and De Sensus. And Kant would appear to be referring to a similarly synthetic function when he claims that imagination is an art hidden in the depths of nature which schematizes and combines our sensible and intelligible experience. In the 20th century we find thinkers like Heidegger and Ricoeur refining the Kantian disclosure of a productive imagination which reconciles the faculties of sensation and understanding. Such a mediating role invites us to construe the tapestry less in terms of an allegory of fixed meaning than in terms of a metaphor which transposes one meaning to another in novel and surprising ways. Metaphor, as Ricoeur reminds us, is an imaginative act which fosters semantic indetermination by allowing a plurality of meanings to interanimate and ignite. Precisely what happens in this tapestry!14For a hermeneutic account of metaphor as a semantic interanimation between the senses and the intellect, between the literary and figural, the proper and improper, see Paul Ricoeur, The Rule of Metaphor, University of Toronto Press, Toronto, 1977 and also Ricoeur's essay, very relevant to a reading of the tapestry in light of the Song of Songs, "The Nuptial Metaphor" in Thinking Biblically, University of Chicago Press, Chicago, 1988, pp 265 f.
I think it is also important to mention here Michel Serress fascinating discussion of the Sixth Sense as a hidden site of desire: An appealing question arises, regarding the sixth tapestry, the only one bearing an inscribed cartouche. Have we five senses or six?....A sixth sense is necessary through which the individual can turn inwards and the body upon itself, a common sense, or internal sense. A sixth island was necessary a tent represents this interior 15Michel Serres in his book Les Cinq Sens: Philosophie des corps mélés -1 Grasset, Paris, 1985, pp 52. Serres proceeds to offer a very imaginative analysis of the six senses in the Tapestry. See also on the five senses Nordenfalk, op.cit, pp 2 -7. But of all the philosophers cited, I think it fair to say that the one likely to have exerted most influence on the designer of the Cluny Tapestry was Jean Gerson, Chancellor of the University of Paris in the 15th century. In his famous work, Moralité du Coeur et des cinq sens, he claims that there are six senses, five outside and one inside, which is the heart.16Jean Gerson, Moralité du Coeur et des cinq sens, cited Delahaye, p 47 and also Anne Davenport, "The Lady and the Unicorn" in this volume, New Arcadia Review, Fall, 2009. Is it not to this same coeur that the poet, Thibaut of Champagne, alludes when he sings: Love and the Lady hold my heart/and I cannot recover it?
In conclusion I propose that the phrase A mon seul désir refers to the two directions of the heart internal and external: a heart which takes the form of a Sixth Sense which combines traditional opposites: real and imaginary, immanent and transcendent, carnal and spiritual. So doing, the Sixth Sense of the heart could be said to reconcile 1) the erotic love celebrated by Courtly Love and Renaissance humanism with 2) the sublimated love of mystical theology cherished in the middle ages. The Sixth Sense thus reveals itself to be a swinging-door where eros both ascends towards the divine and descends towards the human at one and the same time. It is the hidden site where embodied and mystical imagination unite.17Elizabeth Delahaye endorses this double reading when she writes that the Cluny tapestry is unique in its "representation of a poetical world subtly mingling the real and the imagina...in its reconciling not only animals that are natural enemies but also the contradictory tendencies of human nature, the physical world of the senses and that of the spirit. Its resolutely positive vision, faith in man and in a possible reconciliation makes this hanging (circa 150...perhaps one of the most revealing works of a period in France that saw the shift between two worlds - or simply two moments in history? - one that was a slow maturing process rather than a sudden transformation: those we know today as the Middle Ages and the Renaissance" (op.cit, p 93).
My wager therefore is that the Cluny tapestries provoke a hermeneutic mutation within our understanding of host and stranger. If the Unicorn is intimately identified with the senses in the first five tableaux might we not see his progressive courtship with the Lady as promising a reconciliation in the Sixth sense which in turn sets the whole sequence of desire into motion again? Thus instead of the five senses being demonized as follies and temptations, might the culminating image of Unicorn and Lady not be seen as an assumption of these senses rather than their repudiation? This would signify a hosting of the Unicorn as stranger rather than its dismissal as scapegoat. And then the full circle of six senses becomes a drama of sacramental embodiment in which the animal, human and the divine are reunited in a hybrid creature welcomed by the Lady into her tent of desire. If so, the terrifying Unicorn of traditional lore is transfigured from a monster into a mystical suitor who brings hidden jewels of love to his Lady. And in a final act of hospitality, the Lady-Host receives the Unicorn-Guest into her secret abode.18Since foxes and other animals feature prominently in the Cluny tapestries let me end with the final words of St Exupéry's Le Petit Prince: "'Goodbye', said the fox, 'and now here is my secret, a very simple secret: it is only with the heart that one can see rightly.'"
June 12, 2009
Footnotes.
- See for example, Bertrand D'Astorg, Le Mythe de la dame à la Licorne, Le Seuil, Paris, 1963.
- See Elisabeth Delahaye, La Dame à la Licorne, Musée de Cluny, Paris, 2006, pp 61 f.
- This is my own variation on the first English translation by Philemon Holland, 1601. Cited in Bestiare du Moyen Age: Les Animaux dans les Manuscrits, edited by Marie-Hélène Tesnière and Thierry Delcourt, Somogy Editions d'Art, Paris 2004, p 55. See in particular the Thierry Delcourt, "La Licorne et L'éléphant", pp 56-65.
- Cited Delahaye, p 57.
- Cited Delahaye, p 49.
- See here the symbolic depiction of the unicorn in terms of Christian sacrifice by Pierre de Beauvais in his famous Bestiary of 1220. See Thierry Delcourt, Bestiare du moyen age, Ibid, illustrations pp 57-59. See also the illustration in this text of the unicorn as healing benefactor in a paradisal landscape by a river, ibid. p. 59.
- See Li bestiaires d'amours di Maistre Richard de Fourneval e li response du besstiaire, ed Cesare Segre, Documenti de Filogia, vol 11, Milan and Naples, 1957. See illuminating commentary by Carl Nordenfalk, "The Five Senses in Late Medieval and Renaissance Art" in Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes, vol 48, The Warburg Institute, 1985, pp 1-3.
- Song Book: the Capture of the Unicorn (Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, fr. 846, fol.I. Circa 1280-1300). See Delahaye's commentary on this in the section, "The Lion and the Unicorn in the Middle Ages," Ibid.
- Kristina Gourlay, " la Dame à la Licorne: A Reinterpretation," in La Gazette des Beaux Arts, Sept 1997, pp 53 and 62.
- See Carl Nordenfalk, "The Five Senses in Late Medieval and Renaissance Art" in Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes, vol 48, The Warburg Institute, 1985, pp 7-10.
- Rainer Maria Rilke cited by Delahaye, p. 39. See also the poem in this volume by Kascha Semonovitch, "A Visit to the Hunt of the Unicorn", New Arcadia Review, Fall, 2010.
- See Marie-Elizabeth Bruel, "Les Tapisseries de La Dame à la Licorne: Une représentation des vertus allégoriques du Roman de la Rose", in Gazette des Beaux-Arts: Le Chronique des arts, Dec 2000, pp 216-239. For a detailed account of the biblical, Christian and Marian themes of this tapestry, see Phyllis Ackerman, "The Lady and the Unicorn", The Burlington Magazine, vol 66, no 382, 1935, pp 35-36.
- See Anna Nilsen, "The Lady with the Unicorn: On Earthly Desire and Spiritual Purity", Studies in Art History, No 16, ed Marja Kanapas and Asa Ringbom, Society for Art History in Finland, 1995, pp 225-227. Nilsen notes the importance of the monkey appearing prominently in three of the tableaux and points to the fact that a monkey also appears in similar guise in a print by Antoine Verard of Adam and Eve and the Fall. This could mean that the Lady and Unicorn is a refiguring of the scene in the Fall where the new lovers represent a redemption of eros, the monkey now ceasing to be a tempter and becoming a symbol of healthy fecundity instead. The transfiguring of the wild lion and monstrous unicorn into loving companions of the Lady might also be said to signify this transformative reading. This would be echoed by the metamorphosis from Sebastian Brandt's depiction of the senses as a Ship of Fools or Temptresses in 1494 into the celebration of the senses as a paradise of joy and fecundity in the Cluny Tapestries. In keeping with this reading, Nilsen interprets the sixth tapestry as an act of amorous devotion in which the Lady bride places her flowered necklace into the chest as an offering of her virginity to her future lover (celebrating the Le Viste betrothal and marriage)(p 66). She also demonstrates how the five senses have a positive role in Christian narratives, with Listening central to the Annunciation, Touch and Sight central to healing etc. The letters "A" and "I" featured on the cartouche of the tent have given rise to an equally rich hermeneutic. While some commentators identify the letters as abbreviated initials for a human lover (fiancée, suitor, spouse), others have suggested it may refer to God (Alpha as one's only true desire) or to the Unicorn itself as both human and subhuman, animal and sacred, monstrous and divine: a fertile hybridity which refuses to be reduced to a single meaning or identity. For further readings of the letters in the Cartouche see Anna Nilsen, op.cit, p. 217; Carl Nordenfalk, op.cit, pp 217 f and Jean-Patrice Boudet, "La Dame à la licorne" (Le Pérégrinateur, Paris, 2008). Commenting on the esoteric and symbolic character of multiple motifs in the Tapestry he concludes that this mosaic of meanings "ne laisse pas de fasciner. Elle est loin d'avoir révélé tous ses secrets."
- For a hermeneutic account of metaphor as a semantic interanimation between the senses and the intellect, between the literary and figural, the proper and improper, see Paul Ricoeur, The Rule of Metaphor, University of Toronto Press, Toronto, 1977 and also Ricoeur's essay, very relevant to a reading of the tapestry in light of the Song of Songs, "The Nuptial Metaphor" in Thinking Biblically, University of Chicago Press, Chicago, 1988, pp 265 f.
- Michel Serres in his book Les Cinq Sens: Philosophie des corps mélés -1 Grasset, Paris, 1985, pp 52. Serres proceeds to offer a very imaginative analysis of the six senses in the Tapestry. See also on the five senses Nordenfalk, op.cit, pp 2 -7.
- Jean Gerson, Moralité du Coeur et des cinq sens, cited Delahaye, p 47 and also Anne Davenport, "The Lady and the Unicorn" in this volume, New Arcadia Review, Fall, 2009.
- Elizabeth Delahaye endorses this double reading when she writes that the Cluny tapestry is unique in its "representation of a poetical world subtly mingling the real and the imaginary...in its reconciling not only animals that are natural enemies but also the contradictory tendencies of human nature, the physical world of the senses and that of the spirit. Its resolutely positive vision, faith in man and in a possible reconciliation makes this hanging (circa 150...perhaps one of the most revealing works of a period in France that saw the shift between two worlds - or simply two moments in history? - one that was a slow maturing process rather than a sudden transformation: those we know today as the Middle Ages and the Renaissance" (op.cit, p 93).
- Since foxes and other animals feature prominently in the Cluny tapestries let me end with the final words of St Exupéry's Le Petit Prince: "'Goodbye', said the fox, 'and now here is my secret, a very simple secret: it is only with the heart that one can see rightly.'"